Being Human

I don’t know what it is about you.

Something in the way you laugh. The way your face creases as you smile. The way your hair falls, the sunlight makes your silhouette glow. In those moments your soul radiates so much innocence. Little do you know I’m falling so hard for you.

There’s days where I don’t think you deserve this kind of love. The kind of love that can be put into words. Written down in poems and typed up in paragraphs. Don’t let that sound egotistical. That’s far from what I mean.

I just have so much to give and I wonder if you take advantage of that.

I wonder if you actually cherish me. You tell me you do but do you think of me that way I think of you. Do you admire my laugh? Do you think of me when making your daily decisions? Do you notice the way my eyes glow when the sunlight kisses them? Do you ever just stop and think of me as a human being? A living, breathing, handmade, one of kind, clumsy, admirable human.

I don’t think I’ve ever loved like this, and it’s terrifying.

My favorite part about you is how human you are. You don’t know how to handle your emotions. You feel ways that you can not describe. You become easily frustrated, you cry, you get upset, you overthink. You’re protective, and irrational. You make mistakes, act on your instincts, desire attention and feel regret.

You’re a piece of art.

An extraordinary piece of art.



Its 4 pm

Its 4 pm on an April afternoon and here I am laying in bed, messy hair and sleepy eyes. Although I should be getting ready for the rest of my day I’ve decided to have an existential crisis instead. Classic move made by yours truly.

The slow hum of a cheap fan blows a warm breeze throughout the room I lay my head. Spring is finally made herself comfortable, allowing trees to bud and rain to fall. The skies are beginning to fill with grey as the heaven graces the soil with life. I sit here and I wonder. How do I always end up in such unfamiliar places?

I’ve fallen in love. No longer do I reside in infatuation but in slowing down and remaining comfortable in someone else’s heart. My fear is that you do not want to make yourself comfortable in my heart. You are so afraid. Afraid of loving, you don’t know how to be comfortable. I see so much of myself in you and God is it beautiful but its also heartbreaking.

I act like I’ve become this new person. That I am not the same person I was a year ago and although I’ve made great changes to my perspectives my heart is still just as broken. I am not a kind person. I am a broken person. I do not know how to care for myself. I bench my own feelings to let others be happy. I lower my voice, put my tail between my legs and weep. For I am still so lost.

I feel as if I deserve these feelings, to be heartbroken, to be abused, to cry and feel so lost. I’ve made others walk these roads so why shouldn’t I walk it myself

I have been selfish, I have been cruel and unworthy of someone else’s pure compassion. I had to destroy a person to become this compassionate. Isn’t it all so ironic.

Life is not fair.

Run to Run

It’s about 10pm on a Friday night. My week has been long. Work has been tiring and the shop is busy like always. My relationship is good but my heart is always heavy. I go home, and change my outfit, take off my makeup and throw on my shoes and tie my hair up. My boyfriend and I head to the gym. He goes off and does his own thing, talks to friends, watches himself in the mirror. I act like I’m never watching him but he always has my attention.

A gym is the last place I thought I’d ever catch myself at but here I am. Getting on treadmill, putting in my headphones, listening to music that comes through the shuffle on Spotify. I look around me, you can tell who goes often, who’s comfortable, who’s not. People with real goals and people just hanging out. 

I get lost in thought. Thought of why I’m here. That I like having a safe space. A safe space where I don’t have any goal but to run. I think of my mother and how much I hate her. How much I never want to be her. I think of how I feel like I let people walk all over me. How I’m unappreciated and taken for granted. That I work and work and get no where. That my dreams are so far, so out of reach but somehow I still make it out of bed every morning. 

I don’t think I have much of any goal when I go to the gym. It’s more or less just taking the time to out run my own thoughts. To remind myself I’m only human, just like everyone else in the room. And it’s okay to cry in the shower when I get home. It’s okay to feel like your going no where. It’s just nice to run to run. 

You keep me safe. I’ll keep you wild.

The fact that we were both crazy is what I think what kept us so close. You were my unflattering half and yet I spent all my time with you. My grasp on reality is what kept you sane and your wild carelessness is what kept me alive. And we were both hopeless and that’s what was beautiful.

Lets paint the picture of summer. Summer evenings. Right before the sunset, barefoot in an empty parking lot, the pavement still warm from the sun. Getting high and not just on life. We would get in your car and drive everywhere after sunset, right when the stars became visible. I’d lay the seat back all the way and roll the windows down. Blare music you didn’t entirely know but you didn’t care because the vibes told you to relax. We would drive until we got lost. Flying down roads, my hair flying out the window, I knew the way you looked at me, their was adventure in your eyes.

You looked out for me and trust me I needed it. We were both wild but you keep me rational. Told me I needed to come home but some days it was hard for both of us. I still think to this day if you showed up at my door and told me you were leaving the country, I’d probably leave with you.

I can’t even tell you how many time we followed the moon at night. Finally making it home at 1am, yanking the steering wheel while you drove because that swift jerk made my heart skip a beat and you let me do it. You were more prone to be serious while I stayed playful. The vision of me hanging my arm out the window, serenading the stars, glancing over to seeing you driving, focused on the road but at somewhat in peace in those moments.

I think our falling out began when we both put pressure on each other to grow up for a second. To stop being so reckless. There were days when I could have killed you but you would have liked it and I didn’t want to see you happy. But I think I got off on lashing out on you and watching you walk away. Knowing you’d always come back, I don’t know there was just some thrill and playing games with you. And you got off on scolding me like some reckless child that needed parenting. Treating me like I was smaller than you. That you knew everything and what I was doing was careless. And I was being careless but so were you.

I still drink to the thought of you sometimes. We’re pretty bad for each other. If there was ever a day when we both wanted to throw everything away and just leave, then we’d be perfect for each other. And there is something comforting in knowing that I have that with you but if we want to grow we may need to just travel on our own for awhile.

There hasn’t been a day that I’ve stopped loving you darling. I care for you in a way that’s indescribable. If something ever happened to you, I’d be lost, and not in the way I’d like to be.

You’re going to be great my love.

Even After Knowing the Risks

What is love?

The concept of love is something all humans try to grasp if not obsess over. We all believe that one day we will find someone who will love us and everything will be great and we’ll all live happily ever after. Its a cheesy, over played, old, boring subject. There’s books on it. Movies on it. Classes and therapy for it.The idea of love is everywhere.

I have an entire journal based on my ideas and thoughts on love. An entire 7 years worth of what I believe love is. So what is love? At least through the eyes on a 19 year old girl. I’ve dedicated myself to 3 boyfriends, one who I remain with now, 2 best friends and a god baby.


Love is, thinking about someone while making all your actions. You take into account how everything you do will effect another person. Love is, doing things that make another person happy. Going out of your way to make a person smile. Buying a bag of chips while your out because you know it’s their favorite. To envision their pure emotion of happiness brings you warmth. Love is reminding someone that they are beautiful and wonderful. That they too are worthy of all of life’s fairness.

Love is waiting for whom you may share your bed with, to fall asleep, so you can watch over them in their most vulnerable state. To know they will never truly know how thankful you are for them in those hours. Love is, making someone else smile even when it is so hard for you to smile. Even though life has exhausted you. It doesn’t matter because you are making someone else truly happy.

Love is doing things that bore you because it is someone else’e world. Love is, taking an interest in their passions because what ever makes them happy, makes you happy. Love is, being honest. Telling someone that you are uncomfortable even though its something that makes them happy because you need to love yourself as well. Love is also learning to make compromise.

Love is stepping into someone else’s shoes to understand their point of view. Love is switching seats at the doctors office because even though they haven’t spoken, you can see the sun hitting their eyes. Love is, watching them drive and admiring the way the sun lights up their face. Love is, listening to their music even when you don’t want to because it’s only fair.

Love is, touching them lightly to remind them that you admire their pure existence. Love is arguing. To remind each other that we are all different people, with different opinions. But love is accepting those opinions. Love is trust. Trusting the stories they tell are true.

To love someone is to take many risks. The risk that they may not love you back or that one day they may wake up and change their mind. The risk that they may die and you may have no one. The risk that when they leave not only will they take themselves but they will also take you. To love is to continue to love even after knowing all the risks.

I could truly continue this list forever but today is not that day.

I love you.

A Toast

A toast to the new year approaching. Christmas lights reflect off of a champagne glass in a room full of the damned from the year 2016. Here I stand, tall and proud, heels from 2 years ago and hair that blows from a fan across the room.

Here’s to the first dance I will share with an old friend. The one who loved me the moment I walked in the room. The one I hurt the most. It has taken me years but this was the year that I owned up to my mistakes. As I fell down I should have never have taken you with me. Forgive me for I was young and careless. This dance was graceful. We had damaged each other the way a child ruins toys, carelessly. As if we had no clue that our actions were life altering. To this dance, we dance with passion. As you gave me some of life’s greatest lessons, and to that I hope one day you find a love greater than I. One that dances with water and not fire. To lift you in way I could not. I’m sorry.

Everything feels so surreal. Almost in slow motion as the violins play in harmony and each note so long. I run out the door for air and see you leaning against the brick wall outside the building, with whiskey in your hand. Here’s to the long night ahead, and the nights of lustful conversations of other worlds, under the stars. I share this drink with you for you protected me even when I pushed you off the ledge. When I abandoned you in the darkness we both called home and you watched me get lost. To you I wish the best, for I feel we both may never find anyone quite like ourselves to run with, to get lost with, to swim in the stars with. May time heal all wounds. I miss you.

I wonder back into the building when a tall figure walks by me, his face was unrecognizable but our eye contact was undeniable. He was lustful, he was careless, he held my hand with so much compassion as he kissed my cheek and told me to run away with him. So here’s to my recklessness, the nights of binge drinking and long summer days of freedom. To all the times I told myself to run and I actually ran. When I didn’t care where I woke up. The sun was so warm and the stars were so forgiving. I tell him we will meet another day. Goodbye.

The music becomes more fast pace and the lights dim. A woman approaches me as I sit at the bar alone. She’s beautiful, a smile that lights up a room. Her breath smells that of sweet liquor. Here’s to my best friend and woman I could never live without. Here’s to long nights spent together and days of questioning each other’s sanity. We talk and scream together like no one is watching. She laughs as our act becomes more ridiculous. Oh my, that laugh, a laugh that warms my soul. We kiss as yellow-orange lights, light up the silhouette of our faces, the crowd goes wild as we laugh and ask for more drinks. To you, I ask only to never leave me. Thank you.

The night reaches its peak and the smell of champagne fills the room. Dancing the dance of loneliness, to my surprise a man takes my hand. With eyes as green as the evergreens. We danced for hours and shared stories that we’ve never shared with anyone else. We lit up the room, as our souls became closer. My heart pounding as he pushed my hair back and told me he loved me. Here’s to my love, to the one I dance with in fire. To everything we’ve taught each other and all of our goals. To the soul I learn more and more about everyday. You are my greatest adventure and what I’d give to make sure it never ends. To the daily inspiration and nightly invitations. I love you.

So here’s to 2016. A year of countless people and countless days. May 2017 be filled with love, grace and more countless adventures.

Walk with Me

Its the days where I look out the window and vividly see myself running away. Off in the distance a girl with long hair and holes in her leggings, running through a field of snow, getting lost in a naked forest, falling down and just crying her eyes out.

I want somebody to take my hand the way I take others. I want someone to look me in the eyes and be able to tell me that they understand what I’ve been through or even if they don’t understand at least walk with me and talk with me and try to understand. When I hear someone else’s story I always try to feel the way they felt. Which i understand is literally impossible but I try to understand. I try to understand what it was like to lay in bed while your mother screamed as your father beat her. What the bed sheets felt like. Did you leave the fan on that night? Did you sit up and cry or did you let your tears soak the pillowcase?

I want to understand and I want to be understood. I want someone to write about me the way I write about them. I want to be your muse, the way you’re my muse. Do I inspire you? Do you think about me at your darkest hour?

Ask me why I paint when I’m sad. Ask me why I always chase you when you walk away. Ask me why I keep buying books that I never read. Why I play a song on repeat for 3 days straight. Why family means so much to someone who has none. Ask me how i got that scar, and why i got that tattoo.

Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself.

Some nights I like to walk the streets by myself. After everyone has fallen asleep. To hear the crunching of snow beneath my feet, as snow flakes light up underneath a street light. Pure silence as the city sleeps. My mind racing, thinking about every choice I had ever made to end up here. What lessons am I learning and even questioning what the point may be because one day we all die anyways.

I guess it comes with being human. To question ones reality and to become depressed for the most unknown reasons. To complain even when you’re in the most blissful of places. To be lonely even when you’re surrounded by everybody and asking to be loved from even the coldest of people.

Being human is so painful but you make it interesting.